Coffee and Cigarettes
dir. Jim Jarmusch
Opens Fri May 21.

The arrival of Coffee and Cigarettes should be reason for celebration. It marks the return of Jim Jarmusch, shooting in his proper format of black and white. It features an army of talent, including Bill Murray, Cate Blanchett, Steve Buscemi, and Alfred Molina. And its premise--people sitting around chatting over caffeine and nicotine--seems best suited for Jarmusch's strengths.

So how, then, is the film so unfocused and inconsequential? What went wrong?

An answer to this may be found in how the film was made. Jarmusch spent 18 years putting Coffee and Cigarettes together, shooting the film's brief vignettes here and there and where he could, and the end result is completely scattered and with no real drive. Meandering has always been one of the major tools in Jarmusch's arsenal, but here it is taken much too far. In the past, people have been known to complain, rather wrong-headedly, that Jim Jarmusch pictures are dull and unengaging; with this film, sadly, their complaints finally hit the mark. There are 11 sequences in Coffee and Cigarettes, and of the bunch, only two--"Cousins," starring Cate Blanchett as both herself and her cousin; and the similarly named "Cousins?", starring Alfred Molina and Steve Coogan--are worthy efforts. "Somewhere in California," with Tom Waits and Iggy Pop, offers little more than unnecessary weirdness and glacial pacing; "Twins," starring Cinqué and Joie Lee, is outright annoying; and "Strange to Meet You," with Roberto Benigni and Steven Wright, plays like a rightly-rejected sequence from Down by Law. And then there is "Delirium," starring GZA and RZA and Bill Murray, which squanders, rather loudly, a brilliant opportunity. How can a conversation between such intriguing characters fail? Jarmusch, sadly, will show you how. BRADLEY STEINBACHER

Shrek 2
dir. Andrew Adamson, Kelly Asbury, Conrad Vernon
Opens Wed May 19.

Shrek 2 can best be described with a shrug. As in: It's fine, no big deal, just what you would expect. It is a harmless home run--uninspired, for the most part (especially when compared to the original), but certainly watchable. This, I'm well aware, is not high praise, but then Shrek 2 is impervious to both praise and derision; safe and cozy thanks to the massive success of its predecessor, the film can just sit back and patiently tally what is sure to be its massive profit.

The story this time around: Shrek (Mike Myers), newly wedded to his beloved Princess Fiona (Cameron Diaz), travels to the city of Far Far Away to meet Fiona's parents, King Harold (John Cleese) and Queen Lillian (Julie Andrews). Things, of course, do not go smoothly--Fiona's parents are shocked and appalled by both their daughter and her husband being ogres, and in an attempt to remedy this situation, Shrek, along with his faithful companion Donkey (Eddie Murphy), seeks the help of a Fairy Godmother (Jennifer Saunders). Shrek wants to become handsome and acceptable; the Fairy Godmother, though, is a villain and wants Shrek to disappear so that her son, Prince Charming (Rupert Everett), can take Fiona's hand. These opposing interests lead, of course, to much romping and quipping about, all tumbling toward an ending that is properly heartwarming.

In fact, nearly all of Shrek 2 is properly heartwarming, which may be the film's greatest weakness. Whereas the original Shrek was laced with a seething hatred of all things Disney, the sequel's mocking has no real specific target, and save for the performances of Murphy and Antonio Banderas (as the new character Puss-in-Boots), there is very little to surprise in the film. It is, in the end, well-made summer trash--occasionally funny, occasionally sharp, and occasionally interminable. BRADLEY STEINBACHER

This So-Called Disaster
dir. Michael Almereyda
Opens Fri May 21.

At the outset, this video documentary of the rehearsal process for an all-star production of Sam Shepard's play The Late Henry Moss doesn't look too promising--mainly because Shepard himself seems so inarticulate. Blanching at a dumb reporter's dumb questions ("Everything's a challenge," he manages to mumble through his disdain) and stammering to find a way to communicate with his cast, which includes such heavyweights as Sean Penn, Nick Nolte, and James Gammon (alongside the way outclassed Woody Harrelson), the playwright appears to be lost inside yet another of his macho-poetic attempts to deal with his father's ghost.

But as the film moves along, Shepard's verbal difficulty is given a context--he opens up to the camera and recounts stories about his dad's alcohol-fueled dissolution, and the way it affected his son's life and career--before being revealed as an illusion. Watching powerhouse actors like Penn and Nolte rehearse, Shepard is inspired not only as a writer ("to get rid of the Joseph Conrad shit" in early drafts of the play) but as a director. His comments and requests are measured out with utmost respect and understanding, and the adjustments he requests, no matter how minor, always seem to make a scene--in the play and the documentary--more effective.

In the end, though we never see the play itself, we're afforded huge insight not only into the piece, but into the mind of a fascinating American artist at work. Best of all is the documentary's neat trick of making theater seem like an entirely worthwhile endeavor, which is no small achievement. SEAN NELSON